


Thinking out Loud

by fionarhiannon



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fionarhiannon/pseuds/fionarhiannon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes friends can be the greatest lovers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking out Loud

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently Tom tongue twisters and him attending award ceremonies are excellent for my muse. 
> 
> Just a little fluff with some hints at smut. 
> 
> I wrote this the night of the Bafta's but i've had so much on that i'm only just getting it up now.   
> Happy Belated Birthday, Tom! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy.   
> I kind of listened to Ed Sheeran 'Thinking out Loud' on repeat as i wrote this.

Have you ever had that one friend who you could rely on for anything? That one friend who just got it, whatever  _it_ was; you're in a bad mood, and no matter how much you try and disguise that fact they still know and are soon at your front door with ice cream, wine, a cheesy smile and the suggestion of watching musicals all night. 

You've had a stressful day, so they spam your phone messages with terrible jokes that make you laugh loudly. Or you could be in your best mood ever owing to a promotion at work so they take you out dancing and help you celebrate all night. You don't need to hint or ask -  _they just get it._

There are no holds barred between you, you're entirely at ease within person, like they're the other half of you - like you'd been cut from the same vibrant cloth. 

He was crazy and funny and the best at giving hugs; you stayed up all night having deep conversations or lay in bed together all sunday morning nursing a hangover. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen; and he was crazy talented - that meant he now spent quite some time away from you, but you could just feel  _it,_ feel him, with you, wherever you both were. You'd do anything not to lose this one special person in your life, even if it meant lying to him for the first time in your 8 year friendship - even if it meant keeping a secret from him. 

 

It hit me like a big truck - one day he was nothing, yet we were everything. The next day... well, things had changed. 

 

     It wasn't too unusual a morning - you were both lying in bed, he barely covered by your bed sheet and still fast asleep when you woke. But there were a few subtle differences that alerted you to just how different it really was. 

He was naked for a start. 

Not the normal, 'lying-in-his-boxers' kind of naked. He was  _naked_ naked. The bedsheets really were barely covering him, and as you watched with newfound wonder at the way his chest rose and fell in his heavy sleep, the way his fingers, that rested near that adorable mess of hair, twitched in his sleep, guilt overcame you. 

Swallowing hard, you slip out of the bed and back up against the cool bare brick wall of your flat. Moments of the night before come flashing back. 

 

He had been at an award ceremony. You had been sat at home, alone in your bed reading. 

It was about 2am when there was a knock at your door, and you answered it cautiously. But there he stood, his black jacket hooked onto his fingertips and slung over his shoulder, his shirt buttons undone by a few, his bow tie hanging loose and an errant curl on his forehead. You laughed and opened the door wider so he could step through. 

"I was just going to bed" you told him as you wandered back through to your bedroom. 

Like that would stop him. He followed you through, and stood at the end of your bed smirking as you pretended not to watch him over the thick pages in your hand. 

"What are we reading then?" he asked as he toed his shoes off and climbed into bed with you. You smiled, leaning against his chest now as you showed him the cover of the book. You couldn't see, but you knew he was rolling his eyes - you always read this book. 

An hour slipped by easily with him, and it warmed you to see the smile on his face as you lay there together, the smoothness of his hand on your thigh and tone of his voice as he read some of the pages out loud. 

"Am i bothering you?" he asked after a while. 

You shook your head. "No. Its kinda perfect actually," you confessed. He smiled and snuggled closer then. 

You had always thought he was beautiful, but now... you had royally messed up. 

 

Running your fingers through your hair and tapping your bare toes on the wood floor in a nervous gesture, you wondered what the hell was going to happen when he woke up. 

Your relationship had been so perfect, you knew where you stood with each other. You both dated (other people, obviously) and made fun of each other when they turned out to be ridiculous. But then, as you both read and those characters reached their dramatic and inevitable get together, he had spoken those words in such a way that you believed him. You believed he had been waiting for that moment. You believed that you were both inevitable. His fingers were soft on your chin as he tipped it towards him. You were the book now, and it was your romantic story - your inevitable chapter had arrived. 

_Action_

Looking at the side of the bed known as yours, you could see where the book now lay after it had thumped to the floor. Your lips still tingled and you raised a trembling finger to trace them. You could still feel his arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. All around you it played out, like some kind of movie montage; your in the scene, but your not. 

His fingers lacing with yours; his nose rubbing against yours and the little giggle that came after it. The sweat on your skin glistening. His hips, rolling against yours. Echoes of your moans filled he room, and the rumble in his chest turned you on as much as it did then. The quiver in your voice unmistakable as he brought you to the best orgasm you had ever experienced. 

Your knees buckle and you try grab at the flat wall before you end up as a heap on the floor. 

You can feel his shadow all around you - the way he cradled you against his hot body afterwards, stroking stray strands of your hair from your face. The way he raised your joined hands and kissed each one of your fingertips. 

Oh fuck. What had you both done?

 

He stirred in his sleep then, and you held your breath. What if he woke up? You weren't sure you were ready to face him, or this shift in your relationship. You knew him in the morning - his hair stood in straying strands in the cutest way. He looked at you with one eye closed and the sexiest smirk. He'd then sit on the edge of your bed, pull over a bottle of water and chug down half the contents before reaching for his clothes. He'd pull on his jeans first, but not bother doing them up, and then pull his hoodie on. After stretching, he'd pull his hood up over most of his hair and turn back to you with a wink as he checked his pockets. Standing up, he'd make his way over to the french doors in your room, pull them wide open and step out onto the tiny balcony. Usually, if it was cold, you'd grumble at him from the comfort of your bed and pull the covers further around you, but always making sure you could see him - that he was in perfect view for you to watch. 

He hadn't done up his jeans or hoodie, and he never would; his toned, long torso was there in all its naked glory. His stomach with that little trail of hair that lead into the waistband of his boxers. That sparse amount of chest hair. That one mole he had close to his left pec. It was all on display. 

He'd reach into his pocket and pull out a packet, retrieving one of its contents before putting it back. He did as i did then - he tapped it 3 times to the back of his hand before putting it in his mouth and lighting it. You had never seen someone look so stunning while smoking; the way the pale poisonous toxins that you were addicted to swirled around his head. The noise of his sharp inhale. The way he blew the smoke through his nose every so often. The way he held the relatively small stick between his long slender fingers. 

 

You were starting to debate a cigarette yourself right about now, when you remembered you were still naked. Quickly looking around your room, you spotted the silk kimono he had brought back for you from one of his press tours on your armchair in the corner, and pulled it around yourself before tiptoeing to your draws to pull on some underwear. You were quietly heading towards your bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, or bang your head against the tiled wall in some desperate attempt to prove this wasn't all really happening, when those long, graceful and damn magical fingers grabbed your thigh. 

"You got dressed," he croaked before clearing his throat. 

you swallowed thickly. "I did," was all you could manage in a wobbly breath. 

But he just  _got it_

Moving up to rest on his elbows (which only annoyingly served to broaden his chest, flex his muscles and outline even further how damn strong those abs were), he sighed and gave you that sleepy one eyed look. 

Minus the sexy smirk. 

"I'll just leave then, shall i?" he sighed. 

He saw the panic in your eyes. Hell, he probably smelt fear he was that damn talented. 

"I mean, if you want to leave then theres nothing stopping you from leaving I didn't even say you had to leave but if you want to leave then you can leave not that i want you to its just that i expected you to -"

You drew in a deep breath. 

There was that sexy smirk. 

"Kitty," he almost growled. Your nickname from him made it so much more worse and for a moment, you closed your eyes against it and bit down on your bottom lip.

_Ow, that hurt_

Oh crap - shit like that didn't hurt in a dream. Which meant this was all real and you were handling it in the worst way possible. 

He repeated your nickname as if chiding you. you knew this version of him too; he was confident he was going to get his desired outcome. He used that tone when asking for your last Rolo, or when you withheld information from him. It was playful and downright deadly. 

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. 

He was a damn good actor, but even he couldn't hide from you his true feelings - the look of panic in his eyes that mirrored your own. You shook your head. 

There was no point in hiding it now. The cat had leapt from the bag last night. 

He nodded and sat up, leaning against the headboard and opening one arm to invite you over. You moved quickly and sat beside him, snuggling into his chest, he long arm enclosed around you. 

"I don't know that i can handle being Tom Hiddleston's girlfriend," you admitted into his skin. 

You felt him nod again. "Its understandable. But can you be Tom's girlfriend?"

You thought about the two and how different they were; he was this completely honest and yet insanely private person. The two are the same, and yet so different. 

It was an easy answer to give. 

"I could be Tom's girlfriend."

His arm squeezed me and i felt his smile against my head. 

"I'm so glad, darling. Because i don't know war i'd do without my number one fan," he whispered. 

Chuckling, you moved forward and up onto your knees, shuffling on the bed until you could straddle him - with your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands began to lazily graze your hips. 

"I guess i should get rid of those photos on Facebook?" you pondered. 

He hummed what you assumed was approval before kissing your neck. 

_Oh god_

"And i'll more than likely have to tweeting such crap," you continued. Another hum and kiss, this time further up your neck. 

_Oh..._

"Should i practice my bitch face for the paps?"

He chuckled, but moved further still up your neck with another kiss. 

_Good heavens..._

You were sure you were just about to say something else, when he reached that sweet spot behind your ear. You didn't care how he knew it existed and that it was your favourite place to be kissed, you just enjoyed the sensation, especially when you bucked against him. Oh what a pleasure that was. 

Quicker than lightening, Tom flipped you both over and rested above you. Open mouthed kisses now heated your skin. 

"Hiddleston?"

"Hm?"

"Fuck me."

His head shot up and he looked at you with something in his eyes...

"Take dick deeper, duck," he breathed.

 

There was a beat between you both before you burst into laughter and he collapsed against you, his signature 'ehehehe' in your ear. 

" _oh my god!_ You did not just say that!" you howled, understanding his reference from the day before to the Tongue Twister video you had recorded for him for a charity. 

With another burning kiss though, your laughter died away and he captured your lips in a sweet union. 

"Anything you want my love, its yours," he promised as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Your heart fluttered and a grin spread across your face. Cupping his cheek in your hand, you gently brushed the pad of your thumb across his cheekbones, and watched in happiness as he returned your smile, his bright blue eyes searching your face. 

"Happy Birthday babe," you whispered. 

His grin now revealed his teeth and his eyes looked brighter than ever as you leaned in to kiss him softly. 

"Best birthday ever," he whispered against your lips before covering them again with his own. 

 


End file.
